


Part 1: Kagami o Miru Yō Ni (It’s Like Looking Into A Mirror)

by aegicheezu



Series: DEARS x TAEMINTS: a fantasy collaboration between Gackt and Taemin [1]
Category: Gackt (Musician) RPF, GacktJOB, J-Rock - Fandom, J-rock RPF, K-POP RPF, K-pop, Lee Taemin - Fandom, Malice Mizer, SHINee
Genre: Age Difference, Collaboration, Crossover, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established JongTae, Established MinKey, Established Relationship, Fantasy Collaboration, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, GacktJOB - Freeform, Getting to Know Each Other, Grief/Mourning, Helping Each Other Grieve, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Music, Jinki has enlisted, Jrock x Kpop, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other, POV Alternating, Pining, Post-TSoL Era, Pre-Debut SHINee, RPF, SHINee - Freeform, Singing, Trainee Era, domestic minkey, gackt - Freeform, minkey, present day, split POV, taemin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegicheezu/pseuds/aegicheezu
Summary: May, 2019. From his palatial Malaysian home, Camui Gakuto receives a text message from his manager. “Lee Taemin wants to work with you. This could be big.”





	1. Hitori de Odoru (Dancing Alone)

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is about the fantasy collaboration I've been sort of obsessed with for a few months now - I've been a fan of Gackt since I was twelve, and I have always thought that he and Taemin have a really similar stage presence. So, here we go. Warning: this fic got way more angsty than I'd originally intended, but I wanted to see it through. I always try my best to treat my characters with as much love and care as possible, and I just want these two men to be happy, despite everything they've experienced.

Once the music stopped, Taemin struck a finishing pose; both Key and Minho erupted in applause; as Taemin caught his breath he couldn’t help a little smirk. _You’re putting it on just a little, aren’t you guys?_ He decided to humor them, and he bowed cheesily. Minho tossed him a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. “That was so great, Taeminnie,” he grinned. “Watching you practice makes me so happy!” Minho wrapped a supportive arm around the maknae’s neck. Key nodded along, sipping a mango juice box and tugging gently on Minho’s shirt. He offered the rest to Taemin, who took it happily.

“Our maknae is so talented,” Key smiled brightly. “Where should we go for dinner?” he looked out the window at the waning daylight. “Taeminnie should choose, since he worked so hard.”

They all sat against the wall of the dance studio and helped Taemin pack his workout bag. Taemin hummed thoughtfully for a moment before finally deciding, “I feel like pizza,” he said at last, his voice Solomon-like in its surety.

“Pizza?” Minho and Key parroted back in unison. “That’s not like you,” Key scrunched his nose. “You hardly ever want to eat Western food,” he shook his head from side to side. “But if that’s what you want, then let’s go!” Key stood first, pulling up Taemin up from the floor. He pulled Minho up next and as the older boy steadied himself, Key surprised him with a kiss. “Let’s go,” Key smiled brightly.

Taemin’s eyes softened at the scene, but something tugged at his heart. He wondered if he would be able to see the moon through the cloudy sky later that night.

 

*

Dinner together with his brothers always made his heart full; but tonight, Taemin felt an overwhelming loneliness. Jinki had gone to the army five months prior, and he was only able to call or write sporadically. To ask any more of him would be seen as demanding special treatment, and that wouldn’t be well received by their fans or his superior officers. So, Taemin had grown used to – but still unsatisfied by – the rare contact he had with his beloved leader. In the quiet of his own apartment at last, he allowed himself a moment of weakness and cried quietly. Of course, it wasn’t only Jinki’s absence he was feeling; he walked over to his bedroom window and drew the curtain back, eyes searching for the familiar glow of the moon. “Hey, Jonghyunnie-hyung,” he whispered, drying his tears carelessly with the back of his hand. “Are you glad the weather is getting warmer?” he didn’t wait for an answer, but instead kept talking, eyes fixed on the glowing full moon. “It must be cold up there. It’s been a cold winter this year, again… but finally, spring has come. Has spring come for you, too?” he clutched the curtains in his fist, holding on to the fabric as if steadying himself. He managed a smile. “I miss you,” he said at last, nodding to himself. “I’m going to miss you forever, aren’t I?”

The moon did not reply.

 

*

 

Taemin tossed and turned in bed. Looking over at his phone, dangerously perched on the edge of his bedside table, he noted the time; 2.36am. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen for a drink. His bare feet on the cool lacquered wood floor made a satisfying _tch_ sound as he walked through the still apartment. He gulped down a tall glass of ice-cold water and closed his eyes against the bright moonlight. Somehow, the cool brightness made him feel warm; he gently set down his glass on the counter and sighed again.

Something in him told Taemin he would not get back to sleep easily; so, defeated by his own wakefulness, he took his laptop from its place on the kitchen table and flung himself theatrically onto his expansive couch. “Maybe I should organize my music,” he said aloud, voice raspy from sleep. His music library was notorious among the members for being so disorganized; artist’s names misspelled, sloppily-ripped YouTube files, countless doubles. He heard Jonghyun’s cheery voice in his head, a line he’d often repeated to the younger man. _It’s like a bad joke! An idol singer who doesn’t know how to store music properly! You’ll damage our image if the fans ever found out! Won’t you fix it, at least for me? It’s painful!_ the memory made Taemin smile. “Alright, alright,” he replied to the thin air. “I’ll clean it up, once and for all.” He glanced at the moon from the corner of his eye. “For you, I’ll do it.”

Taemin methodically began the process of spell-checking and deleting; the activity almost soporific. He yawned comically loud, the noise splitting the night. By the time he got to the G’s, he was ready to stop – but a familiar name caught his eye. “Camui Gakuto… how long has it been since I listened to _you_?” he asked his computer aloud. Pressing play, the well-loved and memorable notes of an old favorite song made him smile instantly, and he began to sing along, the lyrics comforting on his tongue.

_The joy from the bottom of my heart at our sudden encounter says,_

_“Maybe it will end before I know it…”_

_Those feelings scare me_

_And then I gazed into your eyes_

_Without understanding anything_

_They’re not changing for good, so how many illusions,_

_Like memories and dreams, could you lock up_

_Even then I gazed at your eyes_

_Without changing anything_

_If I hold out my hand, that distant smile is fleeting_

_If I close my eyes, I want to hold_

_The vanishing you within my arms once more_

_Because I can’t forget that time and that place we met…_

 

 _How could I have ever forgotten this song?_ He wondered. _It was one of my favorites, once._ Suddenly re-enamored, he decided to watch a few live performances. He was instantly taken back to his trainee days, making up his own dance choreography to favorite songs. Taemin smiled as he clicked through the various performance videos, and was blessed with a beloved memory.

 

_“Hyung, you’ve got to listen to this!” Taemin threw his arms around Jonghyun’s neck and carefully put an earphone into his ear. “His voice is so pretty!” Jonghyun held tightly to his maknae’s arms around him and leaned into the younger boy’s embrace. His grin widened as he listened to the music in his ear._

_“Who’s this?” he wondered aloud. “Japanese?” he realized, and began to bob his head to the beat. “What a voice!” his eyes sparkled. Taemin bounced around the older boy, happy to have surprised him._

_“And look, he’s so handsome,” Taemin pulled Jonghyun toward the computer and searched through photos. “He’s a really, really big star, hyung.” Jonghyun scrolled through the gallery of photos, his free hand lacing fingers with Taemin. “Do you think we’ll ever be famous like him?”_

_Jonghyun smiled and kissed Taemin’s cheek. “Of course we will, Taeminnie,” he grinned against the young boy’s soft skin. “We’re going to be famous.”_

 

Taemin leaned back on the couch, the memory as fresh in his mind as if it had just happened; but that fragment was over ten years old, now, and so many things had changed. He continued to organize his music library, Gackt’s deep, honey voice filling the apartment. After a time, Taemin thought he had an idea; he reached for his phone, about to text Jinki for some advice. Just as he opened his messages, though, he remembered that Jinki would not be able to answer. Remembering that left a bitter taste in his mouth. _I’m so lonely without the both of you._

Setting his phone down, he sighed again. “I wonder if he would even be willing to try it,” Taemin wondered aloud. He lolled his head back against the smooth leather of the couch, and softly sang along to another of Gackt’s songs. _He really does have a beautiful voice. It’s like yours, Jinki-hyung._

_*_

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	2. Kodokuna ō (The Lonely King)

The air was heavy, and that made Gakuto lazier than usual. Lying on his deck chair, arms and legs splayed like a sleeping toddler, he sighed. Suddenly annoyed by the music that played from his phone – he’d set it to “shuffle all,” feeling lazy and non-committal about his music choices for that afternoon – he picked it up and changed the song. Absent-mindedly flipping between various apps, he scrolled through his Instagram feed, nose scrunching as he typed in the handles for his ex-members. He wasn’t following them, and they weren’t following him; but he couldn’t help himself from looking through their pages from time to time, particularly on days where he felt especially self-pitying.

 _Tch, Mana, look at you without all your makeup,_ he smirked. _How you’ve aged. You were always so vain… look how ugly that’s made you now, inside and out._ Unbidden, Gakuto was confronted with a memory from over twenty years ago; though it was an old remembrance, it still made him wince.

 

_“Come on, you brat!” Mana whined, whacking the back of his head. “What’s so hard about remembering rehearsal times?”_

_“You never told me you’d moved it from one to noon! No one called me,” Gakuto averted his eyes, upset. “You did that on purpose…” his voice was small._

_“Whatever,” K_ _özi smirked. “The kid’s here now, might as well get to work. You didn’t ruin your voice from drinking like last time, did you? Let’s just get started.” He shot a complicit glance at Mana, who grinned._

_“That was one time,” Gakuto tried to defend himself. He ran an unsure hand through his soft brown hair and kept his gaze fixed to the floor. Suddenly, he felt a warm, familiar hand on his back, and he snapped to attention. It was Kami._

_“Leave him alone, you jackass,” Kami’s sweet voice cut through the bitterness in the studio. “And yes, Mana, you switched the times on purpose. So, no, we’re not going to ‘just get started.’ I’m taking Gacchan for lunch. Rehearsal’s canceled for the day.”_

_“Don’t think you’ve got away easy just because your boyfriend’s rescued you, brat,” Mana shot back, lighting a cigarette. “Show up on time tomorrow.”_

_“Let’s go, Gacchan,” Kami ignored the other man, and took his hand. “Leave these bitter babies for the day.” He turned to K_ _özi. “Are you trying to get him to quit? Do you really want to lose him as a vocalist? Think about it. If Gacchan quits because of you, this band is ruined. I’m the one that found him; and if you drive him away, I’m quitting Malice Mizer too. Come on now, Gacchan, We’re leaving.”_

 

Gakuto shook the not entirely unpleasant memory from his head – after all, it wasn’t all bad; Kami would always save him from the other members. He rolled off the chair, content to roam around his house for a change of scenery. The house was too big for just him; but he’d bought it without thinking. It looked like a stately home, a palace of some minor Malaysian royal, perhaps – but truthfully, he’d gotten lucky and paid a pretty low price for it. It was more of an impulsive, status-symbol purchase than a real home for him, but he kept up the façade nonetheless. Leaning against the door of his bedroom, he nodded to himself and decided on an indulgent afternoon nap. Slipping into the bed, he ran his hands through his hair and twirled pieces in his fingers, wondering if he should cut it again or let it grow.

Suddenly, his phone began to vibrate in his lap. Despite feeling low, he smiled a little when he saw who the message was from.  

 **Chacha:** Gacchan! Have you decided when you’re coming back home? I miss you. It’s almost June.  
**Chacha:** You’re coming home for the anniversary, aren’t you? It’s a big one.  
**Chacha:** Everyone misses you. Don’t ignore my messages this time.

 _You’re always checking up on me, even when we’re not active,_ Gakuto managed a smile. But something in Chacha’s reminder of the month made his heart hurt, and his smile faded rather quickly. He dropped the phone into his lap and rubbed his eyes gracelessly with the backs of his hands. He sat up in bed, his back against the plush headboard.

Another memory spilled in front of his tired eyes.

 

_“Ukyo, your hair is so long,” Gakuto laughed, his voice like a glass windchime. He pulled it gently through his fingers, trying to tame it and plat it into one thick, red-brown braid. “Doesn’t it get in your way?” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his lover’s head._

_“I’m used to it now,” Kami replied, grinning at the touch of the other man’s lips. “My mother always said long hair made me more beautiful,” he added, a cheesy smile on his face as he tilted his head upwards for Gakuto to kiss him properly. “Don’t you think so, baby?”_

_“You’re the most beautiful man in the world, to me,” Gakuto replied, turning Kami around to kiss him, encircling him in his arms._

_Their bedroom filled with laughter and kisses._

 

Suddenly, Gakuto’s eyes filled with tears; he threw his phone across the room. “Enough!” he yelled, voice broken. “It’s enough…” he began to cry, burying his head in his hands and drawing his knees up around him; his body rocked back and forth with the weight of his sobs, grateful for his solitude.

 

*

 

Sometime later, Gakuto emerged from his bed after having taken a short nap – he did not cry about Kami that often any more, but when he did, it tired him; body and soul ached. He sheepishly picked up his phone, noting the dent it sustained from being flung across the room. He resolved to finally buy a phone case for it. _Sorry,_ he thought. _I shouldn’t have done that._ He turned the phone in his hands and saw that he had a new message from his manager. He sat on the edge of his bed and read the text.

 **M:** You should come home soon.  
**M:** The Korean artist Lee Taemin wants to work with you.  
**M:** What do you think?  
**M:** This collaboration could be big.  
**M:** He’s a rising star in Japan.  
**M:** Call me when you get this.

Gakuto made a face. _He’s the dancer, isn’t he?_ He tapped his phone against his chin and scrolled through the internet to figure out just who he was. Squinting, he decided to use his laptop instead and stretched theatrically across his bed to reach it. _He’s pretty,_ Gakuto remarked. _But he’s an idol singer… how would that look for my image? To work with such a young kid…_ He didn’t quite know what to tell his manager; so, he did what he always did when he couldn’t make up his mind. He dialed the familiar number and waited, continuing to scroll through news websites about him.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the line responded in English, making Gakuto laugh.

“Yo-chan, it’s me,” Gakuto replied, his mood suddenly lighter. “Why do you always answer the phone in English?” 

Yoshiki’s voice seemed sleepy. “You woke me up, Gacchan. Don’t you know what time it is in L.A? I always answer the phone in English when I’m not back home.” Gakuto nodded, realizing that he had once again forgotten the time difference.

“Sorry,” he replied apologetically. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he continued, “but I need some advice.”

“Oh?” Gakuto could hear the rustling of sheets; Yoshiki must be sitting up in bed now. “What kind of advice do you need?” 

Gakuto sighed. “There’s a young Korean artist that’s reached out to my manager. He wants to do a collaboration with me, a mini-album and a couple live shows.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, Gacchan, it could be fun,” Yoshiki’s voice was thoughtful. “What’s there to think about?”

“He’s so young, Yo-chan,” Gakuto continued. “He’s only twenty-five. And he’s from an idol boy group.”

“So?”

He sighed. “So,” Gakuto was a little annoyed that Yoshiki wasn’t getting it. “So, don’t you think I’m too old to be working with a child pop-star?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Yoshiki paused for a moment before replying. “You know, I’ve heard of this boy, Gacchan,” he said softly. “I’ve seen his posters and billboards back home; he seems like a good kid. A serious kid. He sold out the Tokyo Dome, twice, did you know that? His Japanese is flawless. People love him.”

“Did he really sell out the Dome twice?” Gakuto was surprised; impressed. He continued to scroll through information he’d found about him and his group. “Hmm,” he replied, non-committal. 

“Gacchan, he clearly admires you and looks up to you. What’s the problem? I say, do the collab. It could be fun.”

“I don’t need some twenty-something riding on my coattails, Yo-chan,” he sighed. He was about to say something else; his mouth opened, he began, “I –” but stopped short. His eyes fell upon an article whose headline broke his heart in two.

“Gacchan, what is it?” Yoshiki’s puzzled voice on the other end rang in his ears.

“Oh… god. Oh, Yo-chan,” Gakuto’s voice was soft, and he felt immediately apologetic for the way he’d spoken about the young man.

“What is it?” Yoshiki asked again. “What’s wrong?” 

“One of his band members recently passed away,” he replied, voice shaking. “He was just a baby. Twenty-eight.” He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes filled with tears for the second time that afternoon. “Yo-chan, he was Kami’s age.” He shut his eyes, and tears spilled down his cheeks. _To lose someone like that… so young… and still go on? This kid is strong. Stronger than I was…_

The line went quiet for a moment. “Oh, Gacchan,” Yoshiki’s voice on the other end broke.  “That’s so sad. I’m so sorry… his poor band members.”

The line was quiet for a moment, the air heavy with reality; Gakuto felt dizzy. He regretted ever speaking so harshly about the young man, and found himself begging forgiveness in his heart.

 “I’ll do it,” Gakuto said at last. “I’ll work with him.”

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

_gackt and kami together in the 90s:_

_gackt these days:_

_gackt and yoshiki being dorks:_


	3. Tomodachi ni Naru (Let’s Be Friends)

After having spoken with Yoshiki, Gakuto was resolved to work with this Lee Taemin – even if their images didn’t seem to match. It was true; knowing that this young man had gone through the same pain that he had, it almost endeared him to the other singer. But he was intriguing in other ways, too; Gakuto spent the rest of the afternoon watching videos of his solo performances and the concert footage from the world tours he’d done with his idol group – even Gakuto had to admit that these kids were talented, and he soon found himself humming their songs in the shower.

It was agreed that Gakuto would come back to Japan in the final week of May, but he would not do any out-of-country shows until the end of June – he would not dare to miss the upcoming anniversary.

 

**_= TAEMIN =_ **

“Hyung, I’m too nervous,” his leg bounced uncontrollably as he spoke with Key on the phone, checking himself in the mirror for the hundredth time. “He’s a huge star. Huge.”

Key laughed, his voice on the other line soothing Taemin’s fluttering heart. “He’s agreed to meet with you,” he explained, trying to reassure his maknae. “So that means he likes you already. Don’t freak out so much! He’s just a man.”

“Yeah, but…” Taemin’s voice grew small. “What if he changes his mind?”

“Then he’s a moron,” Key replied, not missing a beat. “And we’ll take you out for dinner and drink about it. But, if the meeting goes well, then we’ll take you out to dinner and drink to celebrate.”

“Either way, we drink!” Minho’s far away voice chimed in on the other line 

“Hey!” Taemin shot back. “Am I on speaker?!” Taemin pretended to be annoyed. “You could have told me!”

Laughter.

In the car on the way to the NHK building, Taemin rested his head against the comfortingly cool glass of the window. Closing his eyes, he indulged in a memory.

_“Dance with me, hyung!” Taemin pulled playfully on Jinki’s wrist. “He’s come out with new music, at last!”_

_“Who, your handsome Japanese boyfriend?” Jinki teased, sticking his tongue out. He tried to comb the hair from his eyes, but the wind was strong on the roof._

_“He’s not my boyfriend,” Taemin shot back, making a face and pretending to be annoyed. “Don’t let Jonghyunnie-hyung hear you, he’ll be upset.” Taemin pushed the older boy playfully. “Although, Jjongie thinks Gakuto is pretty handsome, too.” Taemin crouched by the boom box and put the CD in, carefully; reverently. Music soon filled the air, and Jinki stood still, just listening._

_“He has a beautiful voice,” Jinki said after a while. “But his songs are so sad.”_

Taemin blinked a few times, the car having run over a bump in the road and bringing him back to reality. _Why do you write such sad songs, Gakuto?_ He wondered. He would soon have the chance to ask the man himself; the car pulled into a parking space in front of the NHK building, and suddenly Taemin was filled with an incredible sense of awe. _Here we go,_ he steeled himself.

 

**_= GAKUTO =_ **

The flight back to Japan had been uneventful and easy; Gakuto spent most of the short journey listening to Lee Taemin’s solo work, and marveled at how he moved on stage. His curiosity continued to nag at him right up until he reached the glass doors of the NHK building, ‘Sayonara Hitori’ echoing in his head. He met Chacha and You in the lobby before their meeting was scheduled; they went to the in-office café to discuss things before they would meet with the kid.

“You’re sure about this, Gacchan?” You asked, slicing a piece of strawberry cake for the three men to share and passing each of them a piece. “He’s just a baby,” he couldn’t seem to mask his jealousy. “Are you finally tired of us old men?”

“As if I’d ever get tired of that face,” Gakuto reached across the table and playfully squeezed You’s cheek. “There’s just… something about him. He… reminds me of us, when we were his age." 

Chacha watched Gakuto from the corner of his eye and ate a forkful of cake. “You should have seen the line-ups to get tickets for his shows,” he couldn’t resist a subtle dig at Gakuto, not having been in Japan for such a long time. “He’s really got something.” Chacha set his fork down and chose his next words carefully. “I see a lot of you in him, you know.”

“Really?” Gakuto was puzzled in earnest. “What do you mean?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it yourself,” You chimed in, picking up on Chacha’s meaning. “You both get this look in your eye when you’re performing,” he explained. “It’s uncanny.” He gently stabbed at his cake and fed Gakuto a piece. “You’ll see once you meet him.”

“Which should be in a few minutes,” Gakuto looked at his phone. “Let’s go,” he ate the last portion of his slice of cake quickly, and ushered the other two men out of the café in front of him.

 _Here we go,_ he thought.

 

*

Rino leaned in and pinched Taemin’s side. “Don’t be nervous!” she whispered as they got into the elevator. “I’ve met him at a few parties. He’s going to try and be all cool and aloof, but he’s really a softie. And when he gets drunk, he likes to play DDR. He gets very competitive. Just like Jinki.”

Taemin cracked a smile. “Thanks,” he cocked his head cutely. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course!” Rino grinned. “Anything for my precious boy.” She pinched Taemin’s cheek, making him cry out theatrically and eliciting a laugh from both of them. The elevator opened onto glass doors, and Rino gently pushed Taemin ahead of her. “Go on, Taeminnie,” she encouraged. “You can do it! Let’s make some magic!”

 

*

 

Gakuto, Chacha, and You were already seated in the meeting room and chatting amongst themselves when Taemin slowly opened the door, head already bent in greeting before the rest of him came in. At the sound of the door opening, the men stopped talking and turned their heads, about to stand up to greet him.

“Hello, Gakuto-sama,” Taemin’s voice shook a little, and he cursed how weak he must sound. He extended his hand and bowed further. “I’m SHINee’s Lee Taemin,” he continued, repeating a greeting he’d spoken so many times over the last ten years, that all the nerves melted away. “It’s really – it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” Gakuto stood quickly and greeted him, taking his hand in his and shaking it. _How soft,_ he thought. 

“It’s good to meet you, too,” he replied, smiling at the younger man. “Please, sit,” he rested a gentle hand on the curve of Taemin’s back and was struck once again by how small he seemed. “These are two of my band members, Chacha, and You,” he winked at the two men. “They have been by my side for over twenty years,” he noticed Rino standing behind Taemin and his eyes lit up. “Nakasone-san!” he smiled, “I didn’t know you’d be here! It’s good to see you again, it’s been a long time,” he smiled brightly at her; Rino smiled warmly back.

“Yes, it’s a lovely coincidence, isn’t it?” she took a seat next to Taemin. “I’ve been with Taemin and his group for over ten years now,” she beamed at the young man proudly, and playfully narrowed her eyes at the older three men. “So, don’t you dare work my Taeminnie too hard!” 

Laughter.

After exchanging pleasantries about each man’s travel to Japan from their respective homes, it was clear to Gakuto that this Lee Taemin was charming, if a little silly. He kept looking to Rino for reassurance while he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure of what to say; Gakuto found himself thinking, _so, this awkward kid is Korea’s Dancing King…?_ But, something about the soft way he spoke, and the careful way he rounded his pronunciation endeared him to the older man. He decided to play a little trick on him, something to relax his guest. 

“So, tell me,” he leaned in, flashing his warm smile, elbows on the table and crossed fingers cradling his chin in his hands. Chacha and You were surprised by their bandmate’s sudden shift in demeanor and gave each other a look. “What was it like, performing to a sold-out Tokyo Dome?”

Taemin’s eyes grew wide. “You speak Korean?!” he blurted out, forgetting formality and reverting back to Korean himself. Chacha and You laughed, pleased with Gakuto’s little prank. 

“Perfectly,” Gakuto explained, continuing in Korean. “Happily, I’m fluent in a few different languages. Though, I’m still working on my English.” He winked at the young man, who he could see had visibly relaxed in his chair. “We can continue in Korean if you prefer, but my members won’t have a clue what we’re saying,” he smiled again.

Taemin laughed. 

 _What a soft laugh he has,_ Gakuto remarked. _I’m glad my little trick worked._

The five continued to discuss potential concepts, and borrowed examples from the two artists’ existing work to try and come up with something new. Taemin spoke up after a little while, with something on his mind. “I would love a chance to record a cover of one of your songs, Gakuto-san,” Taemin blushed a little, hands in his lap. “I grew up listening to your work and it really inspired me when I was a trainee." 

Gakuto’s eyes widened a little at the unexpected praise; he pretended to think about it for a moment before replying, “I think covering each other’s songs could be a lot of fun.”

“Really?” Taemin’s eyes sparkled. _That he wants to sing one of my own songs…_ “That would be such an honor, really…” he thought for a moment, turning to Rino. “Maybe we could do a few shows for the end of the month? The week of the 20thmight be good, right? To coincide with the Yakata Matsuri---” 

“No! No. Absolutely not.” Gakuto cut Taemin off, mid-sentence. “I won’t do any shows that week.” He brought a loose fist against his mouth, and cocked his head. He abruptly rose, to the concern of both Chacha and You, who steadied Gakuto’s arm with a gentle hand.

“Gacchan…” Chacha soothed. “It’s fine, we won’t do a show that week.” He looked at Taemin and Rino and smiled apologetically. “We three have something very important to do that week, unfortunately. I’m sure we could schedule some shows for different dates.” His eyes apologized for his member’s reaction.

Taemin half-stood, bowing his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know…” he raised his gaze and saw what seemed like sadness flash in Gakuto’s eyes. He cursed himself for his misstep, though he wasn’t quite sure what he’d done wrong.

You squeezed Gakuto’s arm and his eyes flit to Taemin, and back up towards his band member, signaling that he should probably apologize. Gakuto cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he smiled softly, sorry that he upset and confused the young man. “The jetlag must still be affecting me,” he explained. “We’ve taken up a lot of your time today, both you and Nakasone-san,” he pulled his phone out. “Shall we swap contact information and pick this up again in a few days?”

Taemin and Rino stood and spent a few moments exchanging their information with the older men, and chatting about perhaps meeting again over dinner instead of the stuffy NHK offices. Plans were made, and the five parted ways.

 

*

 

**_= TAEMIN =_ **

Taemin stepped out of the shower feeling more tired than he had when he arrived back at his hotel room; the meeting had not gone as he’d imagined, but it wasn’t a complete disaster. Still, he felt awful for seeming to have upset the older man. He sat on the edge of his bed and turned his phone in his hands, wondering what to do next. He took a deep breath.

“Minho,” Taemin spoke before the older boy could even say hello. “I screwed it up.” 

“What? Taemin?” Minho was confused. “What happened?” his voice was all concern on the other end of the line. “What do you mean, you screwed it up?”

Taemin sighed, frustrated. “I’m sure he hates me, now.”

Minho laughed softly. “I’m sure you’re just over-thinking things! What happened, hmm? Tell your Minho-hyung all about it,” his voice was teasing, but it was just what Taemin needed. He cracked a little smile. 

“Things were going so well! He speaks Korean, did you know that?”

“No, that’s cool though,” Minho offered.

“Anyway, he and I were speaking pretty freely, and we decided to cover each other’s songs, which is going to be so cool, and we started talking about potential dates for shows…” Taemin’s voice went quiet.

“And then?”

Another sigh. “And then, that’s when I screwed it up.” He twirled a piece of wet hair in his fingers. “I upset him.”

“What? How?” Minho was curious. “If things were going so well, how could you have upset him that badly? Did you break a chair in his office or something?”

They laughed, despite Taemin’s worry. “No, nothing like that,” Taemin clarified. “I suggested a date and he just… he snapped. Like a trigger reaction,” he flopped backwards onto the bed, uncaring that his damp hair would get the pillow wet, too. “His members seemed to cool him off quickly, but it’s clear that I upset all of them with my big, stupid mouth.”

Minho thought for a moment. “Did he call off the project?”

“No,” Taemin replied, pouting.

"Did you set up another time to continue meeting?" 

“Yeah,” Taemin replied, calming down a little.

“Then you couldn’t have screwed up that badly, Taeminnie,” he concluded. “Reach out to him and apologize, if it’s still bothering you.”

Taemin nodded, and added quietly, “I don’t want him to hate me, hyung.”

Minho’s crystalline laughter rang gently in Taemin’s ear. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Taeminnie. It was probably just a misunderstanding. Apologize to him and start fresh. After all, you’re going to be working with him for the next little while, from the sounds of things.”

“Mmm,” Taemin agreed, knowing that Minho was right.

“Don’t pout! Key and I will take you out to celebrate your success when you come home.”

Taemin smiled. “How is Key-hyung? I’m not on speaker again, am I?”

“Oh, no,” Minho reassured. “He’s gone out to get something to cook for dinner,” Taemin could hear the smile in the older boy’s voice, and picturing that scene made his heart full. “I’ll make sure he calls you to congratulate you when he gets home.”

“Okay,” Taemin sighed again, feeling a little lighter. “I’m gonna go and do some work for the project. Bye, Minho-hyung. I love you,” he smiled.

“I love you more, Taeminnie,” he replied, as had become their custom after so many years together.

Taemin stared at his phone screen, watching the minutes tick by. _Minho-hyung is right,_ he thought. _Maybe I should reach out and apologize._

 **T:** Gakuto-san, it’s Lee Taemin.  
**T:** I wanted to thank you again for agreeing to meet with me.  
**T:** It’s been a dream of mine to meet you, since I was young.  
**T:** I’m sorry I overstepped in the meeting today.  
**T:** I hope you can forgive me.  
**T:** I’m really looking forward to our collaboration.

 

*

 

**_= GAKUTO =_ **

Back in the quiet familiarity of his Tokyo home, Gakuto poured himself a glass of wine. _I shouldn’t have reacted like that,_ he chastised himself. _I didn’t think something like that would happen._ He took a long sip of his wine and began to undress, tossing his clothes haphazardly onto the desk chair across his bedroom. Slipping on his dressing gown, he examined himself in the mirror as he carefully removed the day’s makeup and his blue contacts; the scene made him smirk. _I’ve worn these for so many years, I forget that I have brown eyes,_ he shook his head. He pressed gentle fingertips against his cheeks, examining the corners of his eyes for wrinkles; a sigh louder than intended escaped his parted lips.

He was brought out of his thoughts by his phone, vibrating on the bed. He picked it up and answered it, still looking in the mirror and lacing fingers through his hair. “Hey, Yo-chan,” he relaxed as soon as he heard the other man’s voice. “What’s up?”

“How was it today?” Yoshiki’s gentle voice got right to the point, and it made Gakuto smile. “What’s he like?”

“Oh, that Lee Taemin,” Gakuto drew out his name, the way it sat on his tongue feeling new, heavy. “He’s taller than you’d think, in person.”

“Oh?”

“Very pretty, too,” Gakuto left the mirror and sat on the edge of his bed. “He had some good ideas. I think it will be an interesting project.”

“Anything else, Gacchan?” Yoshiki pressed. Then, after a moment, “Chacha called me.”

“Oh,” Gakuto replied. _That nosy bastard,_ he thought lovingly. _I should have known he’d tell Yoshiki to check up on me._ “So, you’ve called to reprimand me, have you?” his tone turned suddenly tired. "I’m not in the mood for that, Yo-chan…" 

“He didn’t know, Gakuto,” Yoshiki used his full name, making Gakuto’s back straighten. “How could he have known about the anniversary? You never talk about it.” A pause. “He’s probably embarrassed and angry with himself for upsetting you.”

Gakuto sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He texted me before you called, you know. To apologize. He wants us to be friends,” he said, tone even; unmoved.

Yoshiki sighed. “You were young and excited like him once, Gacchan,” his voice cooed on the other end of the line. “Don’t be so cruel. Reply to him. Accept his apology.”

Gakuto thought about it a moment. He knew Yoshiki was probably right; how could Taemin have known about the anniversary? It wasn’t his fault. After all, he was just a baby when it all happened. “You’re right,” he said at last.

“I know I am.”

Gakuto laughed. “Always so modest, my dear Yo-chan,” he sing-songed. “I’m sorry I missed you earlier this month, Yo-chan. For Hide’s anniversary.” 

The line was quiet. “The weather was beautiful on that day,” he said after a moment. “I know that spring is hard for you, Gacchan. But it’s hard for me too; after all, Hide’s been in heaven for twenty-one years now. Kami is in good company.”

Gakuto thought once again of the beautiful boy with the wide, bright smile that had joined Hide and Kami in heaven last year. He thought once again of how he’d prejudged Lee Taemin. He thought once again of how similar they all were to each other; he thought once again that he had made a mistake, and should apologize.

“I’ll make it up to you, Yo-chan,” Gakuto said. “Come home. I’ll visit him with you.”

He could feel Yoshiki’s eyes soften as he spoke. “Alright, Gacchan. I’ll hold you to that,” he sighed on the other end. “Now, make it up to Lee Taemin first. Alright?”

“Alright,” he promised.

 **G:** I’m sorry I was in such a poor mood earlier.  
**G:** What a terrible first impression you must have of me. I’m sorry.  
**G:** Shall we get a drink?

*

*

*

*

*

*

_chacha:_

_you:_

_gackt:_


	4. Watashitachi no Kokoro Wa… (Our Hearts Are…)

The night air was surprisingly cool for the time of year, and Taemin popped his jean jacket collar up against the chill, adjusting his black mask. He’d found the wine bar easily enough; checking the time, he went inside.

There was no one there, except the bartender; he pulled down his mask and lifted the ball cap from his forehead. “Are you closed?" 

The bartender smiled and shook his head no. “Not for you,” he explained. “Gakuto-san has rented out the bar for tonight,” he emerged from behind the bar and motioned to an empty seat. “He likes his privacy; he’s done this for years.”

“Ahh,” Taemin acknowledged, nervously. He sat at the bar where the man had indicated. “I thought maybe I’d come to the wrong place,” he tried to smile away his nerves. The bartender motioned towards the door with his eyes, and Taemin turned quickly to see Gakuto in the doorway. “Gakuto-san!” He stood quickly, almost tripping over the stool. Gakuto quickly went to the young man’s side to steady him, laughing.

“Did you start drinking without me?” he grinned, flashing his beautiful white teeth at Taemin, who blushed for being so clumsy.

“No, I – I just arrived,” he replied, getting back onto the stool. “It’s a beautiful bar,” he complimented. “You rent it out often?” he asked, having learned from the bartender.

“Oh, for years now,” Gakuto confirmed, sitting on the stool next to him. “You know, when I first debuted, my whole concept was that I was some kind of vampire,” he leaned in close, smiling. “I suppose I am, I guess… a social vampire, anyway,” he laughed at his own joke; Taemin cracked a smile, relaxing a little to see that Gakuto’s demeanor had changed since their meeting earlier in the day.

They tasted a few different wines and chatted amicably with the bartender, who told stories of when Gakuto was young and had just started out. Taemin began to feel more at ease, and soon the pair were laughing like old friends. “You know,” Gakuto poured Taemin more wine. “I knew who you were before agreeing to this collaboration,” Taemin’s eyes lit up at the recognition. “But I really was blown away by the way you perform on stage.” He bumped shoulders with the young man. “I was never much of a dancer, myself. I prefer to stand still when I sing.”

Taemin laughed. He’d seen some of Gakuto’s early solo stuff; indeed, he was not a dancer. Gakuto continued. “I caught up on your solo activities in Korea and here, too,” he nodded as he spoke. “You and your idol group really have made this country fall in love with you.”

“Thank you,” Taemin smiled brightly. “You know, Gakuto-san,” he looked down at his glass, turning it in his fingers. “I really did mean what I said before, this collaboration means so much to me. I used to listen to your music all the time when I was a trainee, and had to work on my voice. Every time you produced a new album, I’d make my leader – our group’s oldest – listen to it with me. I always thought you two had similar vocals. He loves your music, too.”

“Oh?” Gakuto smiled at the praise. “That’s kind of you to say, I’d like to meet him some time,” he sipped his wine.

“Jinki-hyung is…” Taemin thought a moment. “Jinki is in the military right now, he won’t be back for another year or so.”

“Ah, I see,” Gakuto nodded. “Your mandatory service,” he patted Taemin’s back. “He’ll be home soon enough, you’ll see.” He could tell by the look in Taemin’s eye that he loved and missed his group’s leader, and he knew that feeling well. “Just wait ‘til he hears about this,” he tried to make the young man smile. “Do you think he’ll be jealous?”

“Maybe,” Taemin laughed. “You know, he always used to wonder something about you, Gakuto-san,” he added, remembering their many conversations.

“What’s that?” he asked, curious.

“Jinki-hyung would always say, ‘Taeminnie, his music is so beautiful. But why does Gakuto write such sad songs?’ to be honest, I didn’t know what to answer.”

Gakuto sat back, and drained his glass. _Yoshiki’s right, I know he is. Perhaps I should talk about it more._  

After a moment, he said softly, honestly, “My songs are sad… because I’m sad,” he explained. “I write songs that I hope will help people acknowledge their own loss.” He rested a gentle hand on Taemin’s thigh. “Losing someone you love so much, at such a young age… Jonghyun was a beautiful, beautiful person. I know what you’re going through, you know. I admire your strength.”

Hearing Jonghyun’s name in the other man’s mouth threw Taemin off; he wasn’t expecting it at all. Something inside him snapped; he turned to Gakuto, eyes alight. “How could you possibly know what it feels like to lose the one person you love most in this world? How could you possibly…” Taemin’s shoulders began to shake. “Just because you’re older than me, you think you know how I feel… Jonghyunnie-hyung was – he is – the love of my life. How can you…” Taemin brought a hand to his mouth, realizing that he’d slipped back into Korean in his anger. He felt tears in his eyes and didn’t bother to keep them at bay.

Gakuto’s eyes widened, understanding all too well the grief that seemed to overtake the young man’s body. He wrapped his arms around Taemin and cradled his head. “I’m sorry, Taemin,” he cooed softly in Korean, over and over. “I’m sorry.” He felt his heart break in two; unthinkingly, he kissed the top of the young man’s head. “I know you loved him.” Taemin sniffled, trying to compose himself; allowing the older man to dry his tears, he took a few deep breaths.

“Gakuto-san, I’m sorry…” he managed at last. The bartended slid him a little glass of water, which he took.

“No, Taemin… I’m the one who is sorry. You’re right; just because I’m older than you, I think I have more experience, and that I must know more. But the truth is… you’re stronger than I am. When I was your age… the man I loved most in this world, he died, too.”

“Gakuto-san…?” Taemin looked up at the older man.

“His name was Kami,” he corrected himself and used his lover’s real name, “Ukyo. I adored him; we spent many happy years together while we played in the band Malice Mizer – that was before your time, I’m afraid,” he explained upon seeing Taemin’s face, trying to take in the information. “Ukyo was the love of my life; still is, if I’m honest. But he… he passed away from a brain hemorrhage while I was promoting my solo debut; and my ex-band members, they kept that information from me for a whole week. By the time I could return home, they had buried him; and I was robbed of a final goodbye.”

“Gakuto-san, that’s… that’s horrible,” Taemin offered. _How could they do that to him? Didn’t they know how much he surely loved Kami?_

“I’ve never forgiven them for what they did, twenty years ago now,” he continued, sipping his wine. “Because I was never able to say a proper goodbye to the one person I loved most… I wrote about him. No matter how hard I try, every song I sing seems to be about him. I miss him, every day.”

Taemin nodded. “I’m so sorry,” he offered, feebly. Taemin rested a supportive hand on Gakuto’s thigh. “I’m so sorry.” He looked at his glass, half-full. “So,” he added, tone suddenly bitter, “We’ve both lost our most precious person. Life is… life is so cruel.” He drained his glass. Gakuto rubbed a comforting circle on the young man’s back.

Outside, the moon looked on, and shone lovingly over the city.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*  



	5. Watashi to Utau (Sing With Me)

The space between Gakuto and Taemin seemed to have grown smaller, and the air less heavy, since their night at the bar. They had all met up once again, Rino and Taemin and Chacha, You, and Gakuto, over dinner to discuss concept ideas and promotional plans; everyone seemed surprised at how familiar the two men acted with each other, and were glad of it. The awkwardness had seemed to disappear, and Taemin and Gakuto chatted away about their ideas, largely ignoring the others.

 

**_= TAEMIN =_ **

Rino took Taemin back to his hotel, and bumped shoulders with him as they walked side by side. She squeezed his arm. “You and Gakkun seem to have become good friends,” she teased. “I told you he’s just a big softie under that steel mask.” 

Taemin nodded, agreeing. “We have a lot more in common than I realized,” he explained. “He’s a good man, Rino. But, I understand why he has to put on that mask.”

“Oh?” Rino asked. “Exchanged some secrets, have you?” she smiled as they stopped in front of the hotel. “You know, every time I’ve been at an event with him, he’s always on his own. He’s got a beautiful smile, but I’ve rarely seen it. Tonight, he was completely lit up,” she patted Taemin’s head. “I think you must be rubbing off on him, my little aegicheezu.”

“Hey, come on!” Taemin shook his head, laughing. “First, my shawols call me that, and now you? That’s mean,” he pouted cutely. 

“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” Rino smiled as she pushed him gently towards the glass doors. “I have a good feeling about this.”

 

*

 

**_= GAKUTO =_ **

The three men stood outside the restaurant and lit cigarettes for each other once Taemin and Rino left. They stood in silence for a little while, white curls of smoke dancing in the early June air.

You noticed Gakuto staring absent-mindedly in the direction that Taemin had left in. “He’s a good kid, Gacchan,” he observed, taking a drag. “He’s funny, too.”

Chacha nodded, agreeing. “He has some interesting ideas,” he looked up towards the moon and stars, barely visible behind a cluster of clouds. “This is shaping up to be a lot of fun.”

“Mmm,” Gakuto agreed, taking a drag of his cigarette. Echoing You’s words, he added, “he’s a good kid.”

“I’m glad you two seem to have grown a little closer,” Chacha continued. “For a while, I was worried. Did something happen between the two of you?”

Gakuto smiled a little. “I took him for a drink,” he explained, and both Chacha and You made a face. “Don’t look at me like that, nothing happened,” he waved their voiceless accusations away with his hand, cigarette ash falling. “We just talked. We realized we have something in common,” was all he said.

Understanding that they would have to be satisfied with his vague explanation, Chacha and You nodded.

 

*

 

The following day, Taemin and Gakuto met at the recording studio to rehearse; Chacha and You sat by the sound boards, surveying the scene. Gakuto was coaching Taemin on how to cover one of his most well-known songs;  _Vanilla_.

“It will be such a different performance, once you dance to it,” Gakuto nodded to himself. “We’ve done it together a few times now, why don’t you try it on your own?” He patted Taemin’s shoulder supportively.

“Yeah?” Taemin questioned. “Alright,” he agreed, wondering if he was ready to sing for Gakuto on his own. Practicing as a duo was one thing – and their voices complimented each other well – but singing one of his songs, alone, in front of him, was something entirely different. He thought for a moment about how to make the performance more interesting, and decided that he would add some choreography of his own. He watched as Gakuto took his seat by Chacha and couldn’t stop himself from calling out to him, “Gakuto-san, is it really alright?” he hated how insecure he sounded in that moment.

Gakuto merely smiled and nodded, leaning forward on his elbows. “I was about your age when I wrote it, you know,” he grinned, pretty teeth disarming the young man. “It’s a youthful song, just like you. Have fun with it,” he nodded his head encouragingly and waited for Taemin’s signal to start the music.

As soon as the first notes hit his ears, Taemin struck a pose – Gakuto and the others immediately leaned forward, captivated before he even opened his mouth. This would be the first time they would see Lee Taemin dance in person, and something told them they shouldn’t miss it.

 _You are an honest moralist, tracing over me with a pretty finger,_  
_I am a true terrorist, within your thoughts, a revolution rises._

 _A specialist bound by love, a long fingernail that had me erect,_  
_An egoist that wants to confirm love, I want to get inside you_

 _Ah, before I lose myself,_  
_your face is getting distant_

 _s it okay to love you? In the trembling night,_  
_It's good as it is, deeper,_  
_As these almost maddeningly familiar lips melt together,_  
_I am your Vanilla..._

 _"You're too affected", so cool you're plastic_  
_An ecologist with those hot looks, those burning kisses are teasingly slow._

 _Your distorting face_  
_ah I wish I could stay myself..._

 _Is it okay to love you? In the trembling night,_  
_It's good as it is, faster,_  
_These almost painfully wet lips,  there are no more words,_  
_You and I are not burning love_

Without realizing it, Taemin began to borrow choreography from  _Move_ and  _Press your Number_ ; his mind moved so quickly that he felt like his body was moving on its own as he concentrated on singing the words. He sang with his eyes half-closed, affecting a sultry and carefree look; glancing at Gakuto, he was almost stopped short by the seriousness of the older man’s expression.  _He’s watching me so closely… how can I concentrate?_ Taemin rolled his hips and kicked his leg, making Chacha sit back and clap in surprise. The final notes of the song played out, and Taemin finished with a simple bow, one hand behind his back. He caught his breath and looked out at his little audience, who stood and applauded.

Seeing that he had surprised and pleased the others, his sultry veneer dropped instantly and he grinned excitedly, eyes squinting cutely. “How was it?” He asked, still a little breathless from the effort.

“My god, you’re gorgeous,” Gakuto praised, hugging the young man. “I never thought my song could sound like that… or look like that,” he ruffled the young man’s hair and turned to the others. “He’s incredible,” he gushed. Chacha and You rose to pat Taemin on the back; You hugged him and pinched his cheek; he had an idea.

“Gacchan, why don’t you and Taemin sing it together?” He looked at the surprised face of the young man and clapped a hand on his back. “You don’t have to do the dance again,” he added. “But I think the fans would go wild if you made this one a duet.”

Taemin and Gakuto looked at each other for a moment before nodding. “Let’s do it!” They said in unison, to the amusement of the others. Chacha tossed Taemin a little bottle of water, which he caught gracefully and gulped down, readying himself for another round.

Gakuto led Taemin into the recording booth and set him up with the headphones and mic, and nodded towards You to start the music. Chacha looked on, a knowing smile painted on his lips.  _He’s so good for you,_ he thought, eye soft.  _I can’t remember the last time you smiled like that._

 


	6. Watashi wa Iyasaretai (I Want To Be Healed)

The end of June was approaching fast; Gakuto took Taemin to the in-office café as a break between recordings – he needed to talk with him. 

Taemin sat and careful sliced a piece of coffee cake to share between them. “You said you wanted to ask me something, Gakuto-san?” he asked brightly, sliding the older man his half of the cake.

Gakuto sipped his coffee, wincing a little and wishing he’d put more sugar in it. “Do you remember our first meeting?”

“I do,” Taemin replied, “why?”

“You suggested that we do a few live shows the week of the 20th, to match with the Yakata Matsuri, remember?” Gakuto tasted the cake and smiled a little. 

“Yeah, but… you didn’t want that,” Taemin recalled, and ate a piece of his own slice. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” Gakuto clarified, “but I want to explain why I got so upset. Ukyo passed away on the 21st of June, twenty years ago next week,” he sighed, voice soft. “And I always go to Kyoto to spend time with him.”

“Oh…” Taemin nodded, understanding. “I didn’t know,” he offered. “I’m sorry to have suggested it,” he bent his head.

“It’s alright, how could you have known? He passed away when you were just a child. And I never told you why that date was so important to me.” He sipped his coffee, growing accustomed to its bitterness. “Anyway. I wanted to ask you… if you’d like to meet him.”

Taemin’s eyes widened a little, and he looked up at Gakuto. “Really, Gakuto-san…? Is it really alright?” He set his fork down. “I couldn’t intrude on your time with him…”

Gakuto raised a gentle hand. “It’s alright,” his eyes were soft. “I think Ukyo would like it if I brought company. I usually meet with him alone; it’s time he had someone else to talk to." 

Taemin’s heart ached. “If you want me to, then of course I’ll come with you to Kyoto,” he agreed at last.

 

*

 

The air in Kyoto seemed different than back in Tokyo; at least, it felt different to Taemin. The cicadas buzzed in their on-and-off song, and he found himself slowing his pace, walking slightly behind Gakuto as they neared the cemetery. Even though it was a beautiful day, the cemetery was deserted; quiet. Though, Taemin realized, cemeteries are always quiet – walking through those sacred gates almost demands a pensive silence from any visitors. Taemin bent his head as they crossed into the gardens, and slipped his arm into Gakuto’s, squeezing supportively. Gakuto seemed surprised by the young man’s small kindness, and smiled. They walked together for a time until they reached the large granite headstone, laden with fresh flowers from still-devoted fans. The pair did not need to say anything; they both bent their heads in prayer and pressed their hands together, backs bowed.

Taemin concentrated on what he wanted to say to Kami; he had hundreds of questions, but there was one that tugged at his heart. He waited until the conclusions of his prayers to ask it.

Gakuto straightened his back once he’d finished his prayers, and saw that, next to him, Taemin’s back was still bent. He smiled, touched at how long the young man seemed to be talking with Kami; he rested a hand on the small of Taemin’s back, waiting patiently for him to finish. Once Taemin offered his final prayers, he, too, straightened his back and looked skyward, as if confirming that his words had reached heaven.

Gakuto produced three bottles of a specialty beer that had been Kami’s favorite; he opened one and carefully placed it among the flowers that he had also brought. He gave one to Taemin, and opened his own. The pair clinked their bottles together and against Kami’s, and drank a toast to him. After a moment’s silence, Taemin spoke at last.

“I asked him a favor, you know,” he admitted. He turned to look at Gakuto. “I asked him to look after Jonghyun-hyung, in heaven.” He smiled, but tears filled his eyes. Gakuto wrapped a supportive arm around the younger man, and offered him a silk cloth for his tears.

“I asked him for that, too,” Gakuto replied. “I asked Ukyo to take care of him.” He turned his eyes heavenward. “I made Ukyo promise that he would look after him, and keep him safe, in heaven.” He drew the young man in close.

Taemin smiled, but tears began to fall silently down his cheeks. “Gakuto-san, does the hurt go away?” he looked into the older man’s eyes, hoping that the answer would calm his heart.

Gakuto returned his gaze and patted Taemin’s thigh, leaving his hand there and squeezing. “It doesn’t go away, but… you learn how to bear it,” he felt his voice catching, and tears began to form. “I’m so sorry you lost someone so dear to you,” he tilted his head upward, willing his own tears at bay. “Our youth is not meant to be filled with such grief.” He held tightly to the bottle of beer he’d brought to share with Kami. “Isn’t life strange?” he gave up on keeping his tears from falling, and they spilled onto his cheeks. “That we should have so much in common. And that we’ve been thrown together like this.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment, Taemin leaning into the older man’s frame and allowed himself to be comforted by him. He put a hand on Gakuto’s thigh and rested his head against his chest. “Maybe,” he sighed, curling into Gakuto’s body, “maybe we can heal each other, somehow.”

The older man held Taemin tightly, as they both cried silent tears for their heavenly beloveds.


End file.
